


Night at the Office.

by Part_sliveD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1920s, Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Noir, Angels, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Detective Noir, Detective!Cas, Drinking, Femme Fatale, Femme Fatale!Dean, Hurt, M/M, NSFW, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Part_sliveD/pseuds/Part_sliveD
Summary: A night at the office. That's how it started. All his leads on Lucifer Morningstar, the gang boss, were torn asunder. That was, until he walked in. Dean Winchester, hips swaying, smoke leaking from his lips. He was the one who saved him this time.





	1. Chapter 1: Unwelcome Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic' so sorry if it isn't the best. I desperately wanted to write a Destiel Noir AU. So here it is.

The office lay in almost complete darkness, it’s faded wallpaper, and dishevelled furniture, hidden in the darkness that always breeds as night falls. Any light emitted by the bustling city outside was shut out by the blinds that hung over the window.  
Castiel sat in the darkness, the cigarette being the only light source for him to read the newspaper clippings and photos on his desk. The light lit up his face, the pale skin, sky-blue eyes, dark hair and lip of his fedora illuminated by the glow.   
He picked up a battered black and white, photograph taken by a hand-held camera, a blurred silhouette of a man, standing in front of the bloodied body of a young woman. Written below the image were the words “St. Mary’s convent” This had been his last lead, the place where the man in the picture had first reared his head. And now it was useless.  
He sighed, releasing the picture and letting it flutter onto the desk. He putting his face in his hands. Groaning.

There was a knock at the door. Castiel didn’t seem to notice it. Then it came again, A hard-handed pounding this time.   
“Go away!” He called out, his voice hoarse. His face still in his hands.  
The pounding on his door began again.  
“Office doesn’t open for another couple of hours, come back later”   
The door flung open. Bouncing off the stack of over-flowing filing cabinets behind it.   
“Hey Cas’” A familiar, gruff voice uttered from the doorway. Castiel looked up at the speaker. He would recognise the tall man leaning against the doorway anywhere. He stood, Backlit by the light in the hall. Castiel couldn’t see his face, but he knew that as he stood there, propped up on one arm, that face had the coy smirk and mischievous eyes they always had. “Hello Dean” Castiel sighed.   
Dean strode into the office, stockings wound up his long gams, suspenders extending up from them until disappearing below his black shorts. Within the shorts, his hips swayed slightly.  
He crossed the room, sitting on his desk, and crossing his gams. A smirk on his bee stung lips. As he leaned across the desk, his tight white shirt, the top buttons undone, opened a little more, revealing the tattoo on his chest. A sign of protection against those of the gangs that roamed the underground of the city.

“What do you want Dean?” Groaned Castiel, looking directly into his eyes.  
That smile, troublesome, spread across his face again. He slid off the desk, walking towards the window. His hips swayed as he walked. With a flick of his wrist the blinds opened, revealing the bustling city beyond. The cold light of neon signs splashing across the office in thin slits. The electric colours slashed his face, illuminating his emerald eyes, the streaks of light across his hand as he raised a cigarette to his plump lips, and flicked open his lighter. The cigarette flared up, setting the oh-so bright green of his eyes, like a field of spring grass, up in flames.  
He breathed in deeply. Letting the smoke curl and twist as it drifted out of his mouth. His burning eyes stayed fixed on a point in the distance. His voice, a burning hatred on gravel as he said “I have information on Lucifer.”


	2. Hints of the past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas' being bitter to one another, with a little world-building added in for good measure.  
> [Added more 20s slang to this chapter.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a long time rewriting the dialogue, not sure I'm getting their speech right. Maybe that can be my excuse to binge on the show! EEEEEE! :D

Dean’s words hung in the air, like the smoke from his fingertips drifted up towards the ceiling.   
Castiel’s eyes were fixed on him with a newfound eagerness. He watched as Dean breathed out another lung-full of smoke, and still looking out of the window,   
Castiel finally broke of the trance Dean had placed him in, finally putting down the his cigarette he had been holding just before his lips.   
“Where is he?” He stood, a hint of tension in his voice.   
“Don’t be a flat tire. Relax, here I’ll poor you some hooch.” Dean winked at him.  
“You know exactly why, every moment you spend…playing with me, Lucifer is out there, ruining lives with his drug trade, robbery, murder and abuse. You should know more about that than anyone.”  
Dean bowed his head, then twisted it, looking uncomfortable. He slammed the tumbler full of vodka on the counter. “You know I don’t like to talk about that” he growled.  
Cas knew he was crossing a line, Dean had been through some hard times, at the hands of this assbutt but he wanted a something on Lucifer. “Where is he?”   
“I don’t know! Did I ever say that I did? But I have a fella. One of his reapers.” Dean answered, refusing to look at him.  
“A reaper?”  
“Yeah, clean up his dirty business.”  
“So what did this guy have to say?”  
“He wouldn’t say. Wanted to talk in person. Probably worried I was a trap. You know how Lucifer loves his traps.”   
“Yeah, I’ve seen.” Cas’ sighed. Dean knew the event he was referring to. The raid on the ‘Hellfire’ club.  
“ How many brothers did you lose in that raid?” A hint of venom in Dean’s voice.  
Cas dug his nails into the desk. Dean had finally looked towards him, looking to see how deep he had cut. Castiel Glared at him. “If it wasn’t for that raid, if I hadn’t rescued you- you would still be in his clutches.”  
“Maybe you shouldn’t have then.” That one cut deep, he had lost a lot for Dean, risked his life, and that was his gratitude. But looking at Dean in the eyes he saw something. Something sincere. Did he really believe he wasn’t worth saving. Despite his anger for him, Castiel still needed the lead.   
“So where do we meet this guy?”   
“I meet him tomorrow morning. Border of the wastelands at nine. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you were my fire extinguisher.” He said gruffly.  
“Fine. I’ll meet you there.”  
“Attaboy, Cas!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come. A lot more violence too. I mean... I need to live up to those tags, right?


End file.
